


Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

by one_more_offbeat_anthem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Does Karaoke, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Jack being Jack, Karaoke, Sam's bachelor party, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, The Impala (Supernatural), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings, dadstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/pseuds/one_more_offbeat_anthem
Summary: Sam is getting married, and Dean, as best man, is supposed to organize the bachelor party. In typical Dean Winchester fashion, he chooses karaoke to annoy his little brother. But when Sam suggests that they all choose each other’s songs to make it more fun, Dean is forced into some sort of confession to a certain angel……(this is tooth-rotting fluff, sorry)(takes place in a post-canon timeline I invented where TFW2.0 defeats Chuck and they get to be happy! And Eileen and Sam get to get married!)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 129





	Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

**Author's Note:**

> you know that scene in Ten Things I Hate About You where Patrick asks Katherine to prom by serenading her over the football stadium speakers with “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You?” yeah. that. That was my inspiration. 

“Are you sure he’s even old enough to go to a bachelor party?”

Dean and Cas were discussing Jack yet again. They were doing it in barely concealed whispers while the Nephilim sat at the kitchen table in the bunker, completely oblivious to their discussion as he ate cereal.

“He looks old enough,” Cas argued, “And if he doesn’t come, it’ll just be you, Sam, and I, and some bachelor party it’ll be.”

“Some bachelor party it already is. If it’s just us plus Jack, why aren’t we staying here, having a movie night or some shit?”

Cas sighed and glared at him, “Dean, you chose karaoke.”

“Mostly to annoy Sam. But he’s way too excited about it.”

“Because he’s getting married tomorrow. It’s normal to be excited.”

Just then, the groom himself stuck his head in the kitchen, “We’re leaving in five!”

“And,” Dean replied firmly, “I’m driving, so don’t even think about it.”

“We’ll see.” Sam left, humming loudly.

“He,” Dean said, making a fist on the counter, “Is the most annoying person I know.”

Cas’s tone softened, “Are you jealous, Dean?”

“Hell no. Get tied down forever? Forget it. Anyways, I’m damaged goods. Sammy’s a better man than me, annoying or not.” Dean paused, “You know what? Jack can come.”

“I knew you’d come around to my point of view eventually.” Cas smiled.

“You had nothing to do with it.”

*****

So there they were, in a private booth at a karaoke bar.

Sam was keyed up, and despite his slightly manic energy, Dean had to admit that it warmed his heart to finally, at long last, see his brother happy. They could all be happy now, theoretically—but Dean was pretty sure that, even after all this time, he wasn’t really deserving of happiness. Or of the one thing that would make him most happy.

“Alright,” Sam said, once they had all settled in properly with some beers (Dean had relented to Cas once again, allowing Jack to have one—co-parenting a toddler who looked twenty with an angel was often about compromise), “Let’s get started, make this a night to remember.”

“Tomorrow night better bring you even more to remember,” Dean said suggestively, garnering roaring laughter out of the others.

On the one hand, it was a shame that, as hunters, most of their friends were either dead, demons, angels, or something else. But somehow, this group felt like enough. It felt right. It was their family—or what was left of it, anyways—after all.

At first, the karaoke went smoothly. The laughter was constant. There was a nice list of classic rock songs that Dean appreciated, and the others always sang along, recognizing the songs from their many hours in the Impala. Cas was constantly puzzled by the human music, Jack knew none of the songs except for Dean’s, and Sam finally got over his fear of “Heat of the Moment.”

Then, after Dean had stopped counting the beers and the night was getting late, Sam had an idea.

“What if,” he said mischievously, “We chose each other’s songs?”

“That could induce amusement,” Cas said. Dean rolled his eyes at the angel.

“Just choose one I might have heard, unless you want me to do another interpretive dance,” Jack said.

“I’m game,” Dean said, “As long as I get to choose Cas’s song and embarrass him.” Cas looked at him murderously as Dean continued, “You ever heard of the Spice Girls?”

After a highly amusing (and terrible) (and slightly drunken, even for an angel) rendition of “Wannabe,” Sam jumped at a change to embarrass Dean in turn.

“Whatcha choosing?” Dean said, moseying his way over to the console, where Sam was concentrating on the list of songs.

“Something old, something Mom liked.” Sam turned to him and grinned, “I think it’ll be a lot of fun for you.”

Dean sighed, and then heard the opening notes of….

He looked at his brother, dumbfounded, but Sam just nodded, grinning, before whispering in Dean’s ear, “I’m helping you out here, man,” and sitting down.

 _Yeah right_ , Dean thought, _more like scarring me emotionally forever_.

Despite the fact that these three men (well, two men and one half-angel kid) (well, one man, one angel, and one half-angel kid) were the closest people to him, Dean still felt embarrassed as he began to sing none other than “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

“ _You're just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you, you’d be like Heaven to touch…I wanna hold you so much._ ” Dean determinedly looked anywhere but Cas, before realizing that he was, in his anxiety, standing stiff as a board, and so, as to appear like any normal guy in his forties would look when being forced to basically serenade his best friend with a love song at the behest of his brother.

As he started to sing the next line, he began to dance a little, nothing special, just drunken silliness designed to make the others laugh, “ _At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive, you’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.”_

“Actually,” Sam shouted in the small instrumental break, “We do _not_ thank God that we’re alive,” causing the others to laugh and Dean to almost miss his next entrance.

Damn. They had defeated Chuck, hadn’t they?

“ _Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin' else to compare, the sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak…but if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real, you’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…_ ”

The song cascaded into an instrumental break, and Dean found himself dancing even more ridiculously. He couldn’t help but notice Cas’s smile at his antics, and he felt partly embarrassed and partly warm all over. Maybe that was the beer, though.

The song picked up speed, with tambourines added to the instrumentals, but Dean had no trouble with the next part. Sam was right—their mother had loved this song, so he had heard it before. “ _I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…_ ”

“You talking about the car there?” Sam asked, getting more grins. Even Dean smiled. He was starting to hate his brother less, starting to feel a little more relaxed. And anyways, the song was almost over, and then this could all be a funny memory to talk about for years to come.

“ _Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray, oh, pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you…_ ”

Now the song slid back into familiar, 1960s territory, and Dean sang the chorus, which he had sung before, “ _You're just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you, you’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive, you’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off you…_ ”

The rollicking tempo came back, and this time, Dean accentuated his wild dancing with some kicks that he was sure looked ridiculous—Sam couldn’t stop laughing, and neither could Jack, but there was something about Cas’s grin that set something off inside of Dean, and without meaning to, he trained his eyes on the angel as he sang the last lines of the song,

“ _I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say, oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray, oh, pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay, oh, pretty baby, trust in me when I say, oh, pretty baby…._ ”

The song faded out and Dean took an elaborate fake bow before returning to his seat between Cas and Sam.

“That,” Jack said, giggling, “Was _hilarious_ , Dean.”

“Okay,” Dean said, “No more beers for the kid.”

“He’s having fun—“ Cas started.

“But he’s still a kid,” Dean interrupted, “And you’re not his only parent.”

Sam sighed, “You guys are the _worst_.”

After Cas had chosen a song that they all knew Jack didn’t know for Jack to sing, they leaned back into their seats comfortably, ready to mock the Nephilim as he did something ridiculous yet again.

“Nice song about your car back there,” Cas whispered to Dean.

“Wasn’t about the Impala.”

“I was joking,” Cas raised an eyebrow.

His heart pounding in his chest, Dean turned to the angel, “It was about you, silly.”

“Me?” Cas tilted his head in confusion.

“You’re just too good to be true, weirdo.” And then, before his confidence evaporated, he took Cas’s hand. The angel didn’t pull back, but instead squeezed his hand, smiling. Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on the back of his head, but he chose to ignore his brother.

*****

Dean woke up the next morning with a headache.

He slowly blinked open his eyes to see Castiel standing over him, in pajamas that Dean had lent the angel ages ago. In one hand, Cas held a steaming mug of coffee, and in the other a giant glass of orange juice.

Cas set the drinks down on Dean’s cluttered beside table before fishing a bottle of ibuprofen out of his pocket and sitting down at the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to play nursemaid to me, Cas,” Dean mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“Are not.”

Dean glared at him, “I can hold my alcohol, you know.”

“But today’s your brother’s wedding, you need to be at the top of your game.”

Dean sat up with a start, “Shit, you’re right. Drug me, I guess.”

Cas started at Dean curiously as he downed the entire glass of orange juice at record speed with the pain meds. Dean sat the glass back down with a thunk on the table, taking in Cas’s messy morning hair. He knew that the angel, who didn’t normally need much sleep, and didn’t need any now that the things they were fighting were gone, typically read books at night.

“Dean,” Cas started, “About what you said last night—“

Dean grimaced, “If you hated it, we can pretend it never happened.”

“I-I didn’t hate it.”

“You didn’t?”

Cas shook his head, and before he could stop himself, Dean brought his hand to the back of the angel’s neck, pulling him in and kissing him. Cas’s lips parted slightly, and Dean found himself breathless as something that he thought would never happen happened. He didn’t even mind the morning breath.

Finally (but far too soon, in Dean’s opinion), they pulled apart, but kept their foreheads pressed together.

“We’ve got to get ready,” Cas whispered, his lips almost brushing Dean’s.

Dean took the opportunity to lean in and kiss the angel again, before actually releasing him, “You’re right. But for the record,” he looked deep into the angel’s blue eyes, “I do love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

When Sam saw them both leave Dean’s room, he raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but Dean held out a finger threateningly, “Not one word, little brother, or I’ll kill you. Even if it _is_ your wedding day.”


End file.
